


Black Sheep

by teethfaerie



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Ghosts, Girl Band, Gothstuck, Haunted Houses, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Music, One Sided Rivalry, Punkstuck, Terezi Pyrope/Vriska Serket Moirallegiance, bandstuck, kanaya and vriska dated once and it didnt go well, rose lalonde and roxy lalonde are sisters, theyre all in a band and lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teethfaerie/pseuds/teethfaerie
Summary: Rose, Terezi, and Vriska are in a band that lacks the crucial element of a vocalist, motivating Vriska to invite her ex-girlfriend to sing for them. Rose is less than amicable towards the enigmatic Kanaya Maryam at first, but quickly comes to realize the seemingly 'basic' girl is much, much more than she appears. Together, their band goes through all the trials and tribulations of being a team, learning to accept outsiders, and ghosts. Yeah, the ghosts are a big one.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> throughout this fanfiction, the band plays lots of indie rock songs that you should listen to before or during reading for a fully immersive experience! the soundtrack is good, I promise c: i'll let you know when you need to have a song ready before every chapter including one. enjoy!

“Okay, okay, hold on, stop.” 

It takes you a moment to get out of momentum from hitting the drums, but once you do, Vriska’s already begun pacing back and forth, thinking out loud. “...but who would I get to…”

“What’s wrong, what happened?” 

Vriska turns to you with an exaggerated look somewhere between frustration and determination. “Rose, we can’t keep doing this. We need a singer.” 

Terezi rasps from beside you, “And why, suddenly, do we need vocals? I thought we sounded fine.” 

Vriska sighs, as if it were obvious, “Because, that’s the problem Terezi. We sound  _ fine.  _ Not good, not spectacular, certainly not show-stopping. We are not getting anywhere with just fine. We need great.” 

You’ve developed a bit of a sweat from your drumming. As the two speak, you untie the cloth headband from your head and wipe your forehead with it. It would probably be easier and more effective to just tie up your bangs, but there’s no way you’re going to show off your acne and scarring.

The three of you are practicing in an empty bedroom, the seemingly most sound-proofed spot in the school. If you practiced anywhere else you have no doubt you wouldn’t be allowed at all. The three of you are… loud. 

“Okay, well, where are we even going to find a singer? I don’t think there are a lot of girls who even like punk music here, let alone can sing it.” Terezi’s gotten up to grab a bag of chips from your backpack, which you don’t protest, despite her not having permission or even being told you had chips. 

“Well, you’re not being very helpful in looking.” Vriska pauses to tie her hair up in a ponytail. “No pun intended.” 

You speak up, “Do they have to be female?” 

Terezi nods. “Without a doubt.” 

“Rose, you can’t just have a female based, empowering punk band whose lead singer is a  _ guy.  _ Nonbinary, maybe. But we need someone fiercely feminine.” 

You snort. “Good luck. I’m pretty sure not a single person who’s ‘fiercely feminine’ has even heard of Destroy Boys. Anyway, it’s fine, Terezi can sing.” 

“No, I can screech to guitar and drums. There’s a big difference between that and singing.”

“We could hold auditions,” Vriska proposes. Of course, you all know that’s not true, though none of you want to say it. You three are the other. There’s Skaia High, and then there are you. Outcasts among your classmates. You are not one of them. They gawk at your black lips and bright purple contacts, point at you when they think you can’t see. A girl in your pre-calc class asked you once if you were cosplaying, but a glare shut her down really fast. It’s alright, though. You stay out of their way, and they stay out of yours. 

With your girls, though, things are different. They, like you, are outcasts. The two call each other “scourge sisters”, sharing a room at their group home. Vriska was taken out of her mom’s custody when she was around 6 and was put into the home. In her rage and trauma, she’d lashed out at Terezi and ended up blinding her. It was bad. But, they moved past it over the years and eventually grew closer, growing up together as a pair of fighters. They dress like you, they wear dark and bold makeup- they aren’t afraid to say what needs to be said like everyone else. It’s you three against the world, and you aren’t looking to let that world in anytime soon. Not even in auditions. 

After sitting in silence pondering your options for a minute, Vriska suddenly jolts up. “I got it! I know who we can get.” She turns to Terezi. “Dude. Kanaya.” 

Terezi scrunches her nose up. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Didn’t your break up go pretty badly?” 

“Wait, wait, hold on.” You put your hands out in protest. “Who? Break up?” 

Vriska nods. “Kanaya Maryam. I was really close with her back in like, 7th grade. You weren’t there yet but we were dating. The break up was… less than ideal.” 

“If by ‘less than ideal’ you mean ‘she probably still hates me’, then yes, I’d have to agree,” Terezi says in a deadpan tone. Vriska falters momentarily, but she shakes it off quickly. 

“No way, she’s gotta be past it by now. I’ve changed and so has she, I’m sure. Besides, even if she won’t sing for us, it’s only polite for me to say hello.” 

“Yes, because you’re so concerned with being polite,” Terezi mumbles through a mouthful of chips.

“So she can sing? Like, actually sing?” You ask. Vriska nods eagerly. 

“Hell yeah, that chick’s got a pair of  _ lungs _ . I will personally vouch that not a single person in this school can sing better than her, guaranteed.” 

You can’t help but take the words to heart. When Vriska is impressed by someone- the same Vriska who is constantly pushing people to do better- you know that person’s earned their credit. She must be a whole lot to take in. You start to imagine what she might look like. Are there any other goth girls in the school other than you three? She must be one of the alternative types you’ve seen around. Sort of like Feferi, that popular girl who dresses in all dark and neon tones. You have to give her credit, despite how much of a basic bitch she is, she can dress herself.

“...Yeah, alright, fine.” You sigh.” Bring her to practice tomorrow, and we’ll see if she’s really all you have to say and more.” 

Vriska grins at you, a predatory look. “As if. I got us the girl, so I need you to pick her up today. You have the same lunch period.” 

You’re extremely ashamed at how easily Vriska was able to convince you. Keep in mind, it’s not that you wanted to be the one to talk to Kanaya, the very idea made you drip with dread. But you know better than anyone that she would absolutely not let up until you agreed, so why draw the process out? 

So now you’re here, in the bathroom closest to the cafeteria. You can hear the rumble of voices, even from here. You never, ever eat in the cafeteria. Since the 9th grade, you‘ve packed your own lunches and hid out in the band room with your girls. They ditch study hall just to come and see you. You three have organized a schedule where you eat lunch for half of the third period and meet with them in the second half. They match it by eating during study hall and joining you when they would be eating lunch. You never have issues when sneaking out; It’s surprisingly easy to be ignored by teachers when you never speak. The idea of going in there makes you feel a little dizzy, but you know you have to. 

...this is stupid. 

You shouldn’t have to feel bad for being yourself. Fuck, if they can’t deal with you, then they can kindly fuck off. You pull out your black lipstick and start to reapply it with newfound vigor. You’ll walk in and be a bad bitch, the baddest of bitches. What are they going to do about it? You know you’re better than anyone in there. This girl, Kanaya, is like you. She must be feeling the same thing. What she needs right now is to be retrieved by the people who understand her, you three. No one like you could enjoy being in there. 

A small girl walks into the bathroom and sees you. For a second too long, she stands there staring, so you thrust your arms out and raise your eyebrows. “What?” You demand.

Squealing, she rushes out of the bathroom, and you put the cap back on your lipstick. You have a mission- retrieve Kanaya and get the hell out. You will not be failing today. 

You step out of the bathroom and make your way towards the cafeteria. 

Somehow, the noise is so much worse than you’d expected. You don’t normally mind noise, you’re in a punk band, but this- this is just senseless chatter. You know for a fact that no one contributing to this cacophony has anything of value to say. You keep your eyes peeled for a girl with toffee-colored skin and a burst of long black curls. Jade Harley was one of the first people to befriend you out of pity when you moved here, though the two of you haven’t spoken at all this past year. According to Vriska, Kanaya sits with Jade, though you can’t imagine a bubbly girl like her being friends with Kanaya. It would be like giving fire ants a piece of cake. 

People are looking at you, you can’t pretend not to notice them. As hard as you’re trying, it’s harder than you imagined to keep your bad bitch persona up. Every new pair of eyes makes you want to shrink a little smaller until you don’t exist at all. Then, finally, you see Jade. You wish it were easier to run in Demonias. Approaching her table, you scan for who might be Kanaya. A girl wearing a headband with cat ears and decked out in- you think it’s called Kandi?- is eating next to Jade and looks to be coloring. Maybe her? Still, scene and goth are very different niches and the girl doesn’t quite fit in. Jade turns to look up at you. 

“Rose, hi! It’s been a while, what’s up?” 

She’s so… loud.  _ Just get Kanaya and go.  _

“Hi Jade, um- do you know someone named Kanaya?”

Jade and the others at the table all look among themselves before turning to one girl. 

It takes a second for you to register that this is Kanaya. 

At the very minimum, you would have expected someone even slightly alternative. But this girl was, in the purest definition of the word,  _ basic. _ She wears her hair tied up, dressed in an emerald button up top that looked as if it were from American Eagle. If you squint, you’d notice a bit of winged eyeliner. The only really “alternative” thing you observe about her look is a little bit of black lipstick, but her skin tone is dark enough that it isn’t immediately visible. Even her accessories are basic, being the tiny cross hanging from her neck. 

Your mouth is dry. She’s not like you at all. You’re completely alone in this cafeteria. The eyes on you start to burn with a new intensity. 

“That would be me,” you hear her say from a million miles away. “Is something the matter?” 

God, she talks like she’s royalty. It makes you want to scream. But you can’t, you can hardly make a sound at all. With all their eyes on you, all you can manage to do is let a small croaking escape your throat. Your chest is so tight. 

The look she gives you is beyond infuriating. Of all things, she looks…  _ worried.  _ She drips with condescension, knowing that she’s better than you. You want more than anything to tell her to keep her pity to herself, that you’re more than she could ever dream of being. But you can’t. Fucking.  _ Speak. _

Distantly, Jade asks if you’re okay. You see Kanaya stand up, come over to you; when she grabs your arm and leads you out of the cafeteria, it’s like it’s happened to someone else. You can imagine watching yourself on a screen, screaming at Rose to, “Push her off!”

Kanaya and you make your way away from the noise. Your mind doesn’t quiet, though- it still rumbles with rage and humiliation. You can’t believe you let her do that. She’s so below you, but now she’ll have the idea that you’re some weak little weirdo who needs your help. The two of you find yourselves in an isolated part of the hallways where she can sit you down and kneel to be at eye level. 

“Do you need to go to the nurse?” 

For the moment, you only can manage to shake your still spinning head.

“Okay, well, that’s alright. Lots of my friends have anxiety so I can try and help.” 

After catching your breath a minute longer you inhale to glare at her and spit, “I don’t want your help. I don’t even want you here.”

Her lack of a reaction makes you even more infuriated. She just retains the same impassive look and stands at her full, impressive height. “Fine then. What did you need me for?” 

You’ve regained enough feeling in your knees that you can shakily stand. She doesn’t offer to help you up. Good. You turn to her with a scowl. “ _ I  _ don’t need you. Vriska wants you to sing for our band. I’m just her little puppet in all of this.” 

At Vriska’s name, she sours slightly. “I see. In that case, lead me to her I suppose. It figures she only talks to me when she wants something.” 

_ What a bitch,  _ you think to yourself. She has a lot of gall to badmouth one of your friends in front of you. Still, she’s the ex. They’ll just have to sort it out among themselves.

You make it to the band room. Kanaya steps in with confidence, too much for someone like her. This is your place, and she’s just… invading. It’s sickening. Vriska looks up from her phone and grins. 

“Kanaya! Hey!” 

Kanaya wrinkles her nose a bit. “Hello Vriska. Hi Terezi.” 

Terezi pauses tuning her bass to throw a peace sign in her direction. “Hey.” 

Vriska runs to embrace the girl, which looks all sorts of wrong. She accepts it for a moment before breaking out of the hold. “So, you want me to sing.” You’ve leaned yourself against the wall, watching with arms crossed. 

“Yeah! Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while-”

“Three years,” Kanaya interrupts. It doesn’t throw Vriska off her spiel. 

“-But you’re the best singer I know, and this is a great opportunity for us to catch up! Besides, when’s the last time you’ve had the chance to sing?” 

“I’m in the choir.” You stifle a groan.

Vriska rolls her eyes. “The last time you  _ really  _ sang. We both know that isn’t you.” 

“It very much is me,” She snaps back with force. “You’ll be shocked to know that I can be more than one thing. I’ve moved on, Vriska. I have new friends, new hobbies; I have a life away from you. You can’t just erase that part of me and say you want me back.” 

Something happens to Vriska that you’ve only rarely seen before. For once, Vriska listens. Not just hears, but understands and processes her message. 

“Okay,” she nods, “I understand. I won’t try to make you someone you’re not. But ‘Naya, you still have that part of you. It’s there. You should let her free for once, let her go wild. Like we used to.” 

Kanaya hesitates, taking a moment to think. You wish she’d just decide already. She’s wasting your time. Vriska never listens to you like that, what makes her special? She probably thinks she’s some messiah to Vriska. Stuck up bitch. 

Finally, she speaks. “Okay. I’m in.” 

Terezi hoots from the corner of the room. Vriska pumps her fist and claps her on the back, which she abruptly turns away from. 

“But, I can’t sing for you here. Not now. For one, I really need to warm up. The bell also rings in about three minutes.” 

Vriska scowls at the clock. “Damn. Tonight, then.” You want to protest, but don’t- nearly all your energy has been expended, and you want more than anything to get out of here. 

She brushes a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “Alright, I suppose. Where?” 

Vriska bites her lip, thinking about it. Terezi pipes up from behind. “How about the Megido house?” 

Both Vriska and Kanaya light up in an instant. Kanaya turns to Terezi, “It’s still up? I thought it was scheduled to be demolished.” 

She shakes her head. “Nope, I guess they never bothered. Budget cuts or something, who knows. Whatever the case, the basement’s still there, we can set up a stage. Just like old times?” 

_ Old times _ . Times you were still living in New York for. No matter how much you bond with them, it still eats away at you that you’ll never be really one with them. You weren’t there for middle school. You don’t even know where that house is. 

Suddenly, It hits you like a truck that these three were once a trio, just like you. You’re Kanaya’s replacement. 

“So, it’s decided. We’ll meet at… seven,” Vriska states.

Before anyone can speak, the bell rings, marking the end of the period. The three exchange warm, familiar smiles. 

“I’ll see you there.” Kanaya exits, leaving you three. 

Vriska turns to you. “Rose, I’ll text you the address, ‘kay?” 

But, you’ve heard enough. If they want to get friendly again and relive their glory days, that’s their business. You don’t need their pity. You growl, “I’m not going,” and slam the door. You don’t look back. Instead, you storm directly to the girl’s bathroom, the one you know almost never gets used. Safely alone in a stall, only then do you start to sob. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning in this chapter especially for alcohol addiction and mild verbal abuse! please be wary and enjoy.

When you arrive home, you really do have every intention of staying there. You don’t want to give those three the satisfaction of your obedience. You’ve calmed down since lunch, you were able to regroup yourself during the few remaining classes. But you are still mad with them. It’s hurtful beyond belief that they’d let someone in, just like that. Every time Kanaya crosses your mind it feels like another slap to the face. 

Your house has a looming presence over the surrounding forest, custom-built for your family. Surely three people don’t need this much space. The mansion seems to devour all the life around it, save for the manicured lawn and square-shaped shrubs. You step through the front door with a sour look on your face that furrows even more when you see your mother. She’s vacuuming the hallway and humming, meaning people are coming over. Your mother never bothers to clean the house unless some of her friends will be coming to see how perfect her life is. Before you can get the chance to slip by, she turns and spots you, face lighting up. She moves towards you with a slight stumble in her step, and purrs, “Rosey, sweetie.” 

You wrinkle your nose; her breath reeks of wine. Before she can grab you in an unwanted hug, you duck away. She manages to catch herself from falling and looks at you with a tight-lipped smile. “I hope you had a good day at school. Mommy’s having a couple of people over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior, okay?” 

You  _ hate  _ when she refers to herself as “mommy.” As coldly as you can manage, you force out a, “Yes, mother.” 

If she observes your bitter attitude, she doesn’t let it show. She claps her hands together and sweetly chirps, “Lovely! I left a dress on your bed, and please,” her perfect housewife facade falters for a moment as she lets her tone turn aggressive. “Try to look nice.” Her critical eyes burn as they look you over. 

You turn away, already starting your way up the twisting staircase “Yeah. Goodbye, mother.” You don’t give her time to say anything else and hurry upstairs. 

The silence of the second floor is soothing, even with the far off whir of the vacuum restarting present underneath. On your way down the hallway, you stop at your sister’s door. She’d gotten home before you, one of her friends had dropped her off since she didn’t drive you to school that day. You give two quick knocks before turning the knob, finding it unlocked. Inside, she yelps, sitting bolt upright at her desk and simultaneously rushing to close her tab while turning to look at you. Upon seeing your face, though, she relaxes her tense body and sighs, bringing Minecraft back up on the screen and muting her headset. 

“Hey Rose,” she greets you. You wave back and step inside, going to sit on her bed. The lights are off in her room, the walls illuminated by hot pink LED lights and various neon signs. She has an indisputably cool room, you have to admit. Her bubblegum toned desktop glows on her face while she talks. 

“Mom said the company should be over at like, 6:30, so you have a couple ‘a hours until you gotta glam up.” Like your mother, Roxy’s never been able to shake her thick New Yorker accent. She makes it work, though. Your mom, with her perpetually tipsy speech, sounds more like an offensive impression than anything. 

You snicker, flopping onto her mattress. “I don’t really think you can classify what mother wants as ‘glamming up.’” 

She squints at you, cocking her head to the side. “Why do you call her ‘mother?’ You sound like a Victorian-era chick. Or like, some china doll who’s come to life after being asleep since the 1700s.” She puts a hand to her forehead and exaggerates an innocent British accent. “Oh goodness! I’ve awoken to a strange new world, oh where is my mother? I fear I’m not in Kansas anymore!” 

You snort, and her curls bob around at her chin while she laughs. “Your references are all over the place, Rox. You need to brush up, otherwise, I might surpass you with my rambling skills. Anyway,” you stand up, “I’m gonna head to my room. Try to get my head together before I get it torn apart again.” 

She turns back to her display, waving you off. “Coolio. Come in if you need me, I prolly won’t be able to hear you from outside.” You nod and leave, shutting the door behind you and crossing over to your room. 

Your bedroom is massive, just like Roxy’s. Areas of the wall have been left blank with no posters or utilities to fill them. Of course, you rarely use those corners. You flop onto your bed, covered in a black tentacle print linen. The walls around your bed are coated in posters for your favorite bands and polaroids of your friends. You laugh every time you see the one of Terezi, partially blurred and dashing towards the camera with her tongue out. She had been successful in licking the camera. Another one features Vriska sitting in a dark room. The camera’s flash illuminates her surprised expression, eyes red and lips coated in Cheeto dust. Her hand is shoved in her mouth quite ungracefully. You pull your backpack up onto the bed and begin on your homework. 

After you’ve finished, you roll over to open your laptop and put on your headphones. Having nothing else to watch, you choose to rewatch the third season of American Horror Story again. If you’re being honest, you’re not even that invested in the plot, it’s mostly the aesthetic appeal that draws you back every time. 

After a few episodes, you switch over to music and start blasting your loudest playlist. You close your eyes to the bouncing intro MCR’s Mama, letting your mind and body go slack. It’s so easy to lose yourself like that and proves to be too easy.

After an unknown period of time, you’re pulled out of your half-sleep by banging on your door. You’ve only barely opened your eyes when your mother bursts in, having unlocked your door with her own key (you have no idea why she even bothered with locks if she chooses to ignore them). She turns red at the sight of you and you panic, frantically pulling off your headphones and scrambling to get off your bed. Her voice is sharp but clear. 

“Rose, I told you  _ hours  _ ago to make yourself decent, and you’re still sitting there having done nothing. What is wrong with you?” Every word feels like an individual knife and you cringe. She points an accusing finger at you from the doorway, wide-eyed. “Get dressed, now. Try to make yourself look like less of a freak, you have 5 minutes.” And with that, she turns on her heel and slams the door. You shudder at the sound. Your breathing comes back to you with each clacking step away she takes. Your head hurts. Heart still racing, your panic turns to anger, raw and terrible. She said you had 5 minutes to get ready. That’s 5 minutes, maybe four now, to get out of there. 

You waste no time as you abscond, strapping on a pair of Dr. Martens and pulling on your backpack and a flannel. Your window opens with ease. You were lucky to receive the room with a window right above the porch. You jump through and land steadily on the shingled platform. As quietly as possible, you climb down. Your bicycle sits invitingly right by the garage door. You don’t need an invitation, though. You’ve pulled out of the garden and slipped past the unlocked gate before anyone has the chance to stop you, and you’re left to the cool, silent evening air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for how short this chapter is. i promise that the ridiculous length on next thursday's chapter will make up for it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! first chapter using a song, yippee! i apologize for how late this chapter is going up, i've just been extremely unmotivated for days :^) the song featured in this chapter will be black sheep (in my mind, it's the version by brie larson). i highly suggest listening to it before or during reading!! that's really all i have to say, other than i hope you have a good day and let me know your thoughts on this fic :D

You know where you’re going, despite wishing you didn’t. Did you even have a choice? Your friends are a lifeline, you can’t turn them down no matter how badly you wish you could. Kanaya couldn’t be worse than an evening with your mother, no matter how dreadful she is to be around. Nothing could be worse than that. 

Sometime in the middle of your journey, a buzzing from your pocket startles you. You pull over and read the contact name; Roxy. Your thumb hovers over the answer button before you think better of it and press deny. For good measure, you put the phone on silent and slip it into your backpack. With that, you continue on your way. 

You keep the address Vriska texted you in the forefront of your mind. It isn’t too far, but it’s a bit after seven by the time you brake in front of a decrepit looking residential home. You’re a little late. The telltale sound of a tuning bass from inside the house tells you this is the right place, and you sigh, putting down the kickstand and stepping onto the unkempt lawn. The grass tickles at your ankles while you cross over to the front step. You consider knocking, but the chances of being heard over their instruments and laughter are… slim. Instead, you let yourself in, the door creaking at your entrance. In the darkness of the horse, you follow the sounds down to the basement door and eventually, the makeshift stage where your friends have made a home for themselves.

Some of the equipment they seem to have brought along, but other things seem like they’ve been here a long time, remnants of an old life lived here. Graffiti lines the concrete walls, clearly Vriska’s mark on this place from years ago. Her messy mark reads “SCOURGE,” in a style not yet perfected. Terezi has clearly been here as well, red spray paint shakily spelling out her name and other seemingly random phrases and designs all over the walls. When Vriska notices you standing in the door uncomfortably, she drops what she’s doing (her bass makes an awful sound when it hits the floor) and runs forward, arms outstretched, and crying out with excitement. You’re taken aback by her affection, your unfeeling mask falling away for a moment. When Vriska pulls away, she’s ecstatic. 

“Oh my god, you came! I knew you’d cave in, I’m so glad you’ve got zero resolve.” You give her a look and she sheepishly rubs her neck. “Sorry. I’m trying to be nicer. But really, I’m so excited you’re here, it’s not every day you get to see Kanaya sing. Hell, I can barely remember the last time I heard her. She should be ready in a few, go ahead and check out the drum set.” With that, she eagerly scuttles off towards Terezi. It’s so strange to see her like this. And, trying to be nicer? This is not your usual Vriska, not that you’re complaining. You just can’t remember the last time you’ve seen her so… happy. 

You move to examine the drum set. You have no idea how, but somehow, they’ve gotten a drum set here. It isn’t your usual one, so you suspect it might have been here a long time. Maybe they used this one when they practiced here before. Whatever the case, when you test out your drumsticks on it, they seem to be in good condition. You sit on the worn bench and tap out a slow, easy beat as practice, Terezi playing along with your given rhythm. It’s good, the moments like these. You like to feel like part of the group, not like the group is just dragging you along. You feel important, as conceited as it sounds. Your moment is cut short, though, by Vriska flashing the makeshift stage light (a fluorescent portable painters lamp on an extension cord) and shushing you. 

“Shh, the show is about to begin! Everyone, put your hands together for- um- Kanaya!” Terezi claps politely. You don’t. Vriska fixes the light on the empty microphone like a spotlight and rushes back to her spot. Before you even get the chance to dwell on how Vriska introduced Kanaya and not the rest of the band, you realize a silhouette has appeared in the doorway, striking a pose. The room is silent, save for a guitar strum lingering in the air as the girl steps forward, and- oh wow. 

When the light hits Kanaya, it’s a lot to take in. It’s almost difficult to acknowledge that this is the same girl. Her hair has been let down, falling around her chin in an A-line cut like Ramona Flowers. A pleated green and black skirt sways around her hips as she walks, feet clicking against the cement floor in her platform boots. Her makeup catches in the light, gold and green to compliment her outfit, glittering every time she moves. It’s hypnotic. She’s hypnotic. 

You snap out of it when you realize you’re not sure what you’re even playing. You quickly lean over to Terezi, whispering to her, “Wait, what song are we doing?” She looks at you with a toothy grin, and over her glasses, you can see the excitement in her eyes.  
“Black Sheep. That song from Scott Pilgrim.” 

You nod and begin to tap the snare drum in a steady rhythm. Vriska joins in, creating a pulsing effect. The sound of Terezi’s guitar floats over your noise, getting louder by the second. 

When Kanaya holds up a closed fist, the song begins. Terezi crescendos the guitar and then cuts off, leaving only you behind as Kanaya begins to sing. 

“ _Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when_ ,” On the word end, Vriska and Terezi strum in sync, creating a heavy crunch. As soon as they began, they stop, leaving you two once again. Kanaya’s voice is haunting over the near silence, more like a memory than something now. It’s beautiful. 

“ _Our common goal was waiting for the world to end_ ,” Again, the two join you in a cacophony of sound.

Kanaya’s voice rises, becoming a higher wail. Not unpleasant though; rather, her voice drips with emotion. This time, Terezi plays along, matching the higher tone.

“ _Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend_ ,” When the scourge sisters join, you observe Terezi shredding to complement the way Kanaya’s voice lifts on the last word. You can feel the energy picking up as you watch her, unable to tear your eyes away. Her voice grows with intensity on every syllable. 

“ _You crack the whip, shape-shift, and trick, the past again_ ,” Terezi’s shredding comes louder this time, crescendoing into a crashing and yet elegant chorus line, all four of you playing in harmony. You observe Vriska. She’s wearing a look of euphoria, seeming to indulge in every chord, and you can’t say you blame her. You sounded alright before, but this is a whole new level. Kanaya’s voice perfectly complements your sound, her angelic song contrasting the crunch of your playing. She sways slightly as she serenades an invisible audience. 

“ _I'll send you my love on a wire, lift you up, every time, everyone_ ,” She doesn’t stop for a breath, instead transitioning into a sweetly sung, “ _oooh, pulls away, oooh, from you_ ~” Terezi soars over Kanaya’s gentle oo’s while you create a heartbeat underneath. You don’t take note of the way that last note makes your heart flutter.

And before you’ve had time to think, the song is over. One last sweetly sung chorus lingers over the air, Vriska and Terezi’s last notes slowly fading out. You exhale, smiling despite yourself. You can hear Kanaya’s breathing through the microphone, small but still dripping with energy. 

Vriska ends the quiet moment by throwing herself over Kanaya, laughing. You can hear Kanaya’s giggling over the speaker too, breathy and wonderful, like she hasn’t laughed in years. The two turn back to you and Terezi when they’ve finished. Vriska’s face is red with excitement, a small sweat having built up. 

“That was spectacular,” she gushes, “Oh my god, that was fantastic. I mean, of course It could be way better, but for a first try,” She stops to breathe out, “Wow.” 

Terezi pushes her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose as she tells Kanaya, “You really haven’t lost your charm. If anything, I’d say you’ve gotten better.” 

The girl grows scarlet, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear. “Thank you. It’s not as if I haven’t been practicing, choral singing and punk really aren’t all that different.” She grows silent at Terezi’s cynical look. “Technique wise, that is.” 

“You, uh,” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and suddenly, eyes are on you. You look down. “You’re really talented. I hate to admit it, but getting a singer wasn’t an awful idea.” At this, Kanaya simpers in a way you try not to think is too self-satisfied. Vriska claps you on the back, light practically emanating from her. 

“Hell yeah she is! That’s my Maryam.” She turns to the girl who’s still catching her breath. “So, we usually practice during 3rd period—” She’s cut off by Kanaya waving her hands, shaking her head. 

“No, hold on. I didn’t say I agree.” The silence in the room is heavy, all three of you gawking at the girl. You feel your heart rate picking up again, heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Are you kidding?” You demand. “You have a gift. You’re good at this. We need a singer, there’s no reason for you not to just get over yourself and join!” 

She looks back at you, her stare intense and captivating. Her speech isn’t angry, but very deliberate. “I am a person. I have my own things to worry about, and my life does not revolve around any of you. It is mine.” 

And in a rare occasion, you are rendered speechless. Not because she’s said anything particularly outlandish, but the opposite; she’s right. You _hate_ that she’s right. You look down and bite your lip, mind racing for a response, but Vriska is the one to provide it. 

She reaches out her arm, placing a tentative hand on Kanaya’s shoulder, and her face is contorted with strange sincerity. You’ve never seen her like this. _She changes for Kanaya_ , you realize. “Listen, I… You’re right. You usually are,” she chuckles. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, and I don’t want to.” 

Kanaya meets her eyes, and you can’t tell if it’s an expression of pain or empathy. “You know very well why I’m hesitant. It’s not that I don’t want to join your band, I do. I love to sing and I especially like singing the music I like. I just…” She pulls away from Vriska’s hand and you know it’s a look of pain. “ I will not be bound again.” 

A long moment passes before Terezi breaks the silence. “Yeah, of course not. Only a kinky perv would want that. We all made mistakes back then, some of us more than others.” If she could see, you’re pretty sure she’d be side-eyeing Vriska. “But, we’ve changed, and we’re gonna keep trying to get better. All of us. And if you are getting mistreated by us? You can just leave. No one will stop you.” She shifts on her cane and gives Kanaya a shrug. 

Finally, Kanaya smiles with her fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose. “Okay,” She sighs, “You got me. I’ll do it. I keep telling you to join the debate team Terezi, you’d be good.” 

Terezi lets out a cackling laugh and elbows her. “Also, I promise that if Vriska tries anything, I’ll cut off her fingers one by one and eat them like mozzarella sticks.” Kanaya bursts out laughing at this, and Vriska joins in semi-nervously. You let yourself snort and chuckle, struggling to keep yourself quiet. 

After you’ve all collected yourselves, Kanaya puts her hands on her hips and smiles. You find yourself taking note of the way the glitter on her eyes shimmers when her eyes crinkle. 

“Well, the night’s only just begun. Would anyone care to go over Black Sheep again?” 

So you do, a couple more times. Frequently, Vriska will stop the show. She’ll hold up her hand and say, “Hey, hold on, stop. Then she’ll point at Kanaya and Terezi and say, ”can you two harmonize on that note?” And then Terezi will play a measure before and on the note in question, Kanaya will join in and sing a sweet-sounding “ooh” that makes Terezi sound like a voice of her own. And then Vriska will clap her hands together and declare, “Perfect, just like that!” And you do it all over again. It isn’t boring. You like it, it feels… real. So much more polished than your band’s messy, half-off beat performances for yourselves. And besides, Kanaya has a really pretty voice. 

Kanaya is an enigma. You reflect on this while you play, letting your hands and feet go into autopilot. She is no different than any other person at your school, an outsider. But yet, she isn’t. Vriska tries around her, harder than she does around anyone. She’s careful of what she says, treading lightly on the thin ice covering their untapped trauma. Kanaya is someone Vriska believes is worth pleasing. What does she have to offer other than her voice? Is Vriska really sorry for whatever she did? In all your time with the scourge sisters, you’ve almost never seen her apologize. Vriska is unapologetically herself. She wouldn’t ever change that for just anyone. No matter how hard your critical mind tries to sort out Kanaya and her bad blood, you end up right back where you’d begun: another question. 

Terezi has to kick you in the shin to get you to notice that they’ve stopped playing for good, and you yelp. You’re about to begin chewing her out when you’re cut off by the smug grin on her face, leaving you silent. “Earth to Rose! We’re done, we’re gonna hang out for a bit. C’mon.” She pulls you out from your bench, and you’re swept up in the laughter of the others against your instinct to defend your pride. 

All four of you make your way up the stairs. “We hooked the place up to a generator, so the power should be on,” you hear Vriska say. This proves true when you flip the light switch, revealing a dust-coated living room. You’d been expecting blank walls and shadows on the hardwood that told of furniture now gone, but you’re surprised to find the home in a livable state.

Terezi stops in the doorway and turns to you. “So, Rose, this house has history.” She waggles her fingers, indicating the beginning of a story.” 

“Sometime in the 90s, there’s this family living here, picture-perfect. Mom and Dad have two kids, all models citizens in the making. Dad goes to work every day while the mom cleans the house and makes dinner for her loving husband, caring for their two little angels. You get the idea. But then, the neighbors notice that no one’s left the house in days. Dad’s been missing work, kids haven’t been at school, and the mom… well, the mom isn’t very suspicious, honestly.” 

You nod, anxiously urging her to continue. “And?” 

She groans, “I’m getting to it! So, the neighbors come and investigate. The door is unlocked, cars are still in the driveway. They start calling for the family, no response. They look around, nothing. They’re gone. Their clothes are still there, the TV is even on. The family just,” She makes an explosion motion with her hands, “Disappeared. No one ever saw them again.” 

You don’t want to admit that the story freaked you out a little, so you shrug. “Well, they’re gone, so at least we don’t need to worry about them popping out of the closet.” 

While you push past, Terezi waggles her fingers. “You never know~”, she says in a singsong voice. 

Kanaya is examining the rows of bookshelves while Vriska rifles through the kitchen. More cautiously than you’d like to admit, you follow in their footsteps. You and Terezi ascend the creaking staircase and turn on the lights. The upstairs is no different from the obsolete main floor. 

“It’s like a time capsule,” you hum. Terezi nods in agreement and begins opening doors. Despite its backstory, the house is remarkably ordinary. The head bedroom looks as if it’s tenants have only just stepped out, soon to return to their warm bed. You could almost forget they’d been gone for decades. The bed is unmade and inviting. “The paint is starting to peel on the walls,” you tell Terezi. “There‘s a painting, it looks like a copy of one of those ancient Japanese prints you’d find at a restaurant. There’s also a mirror, but…” You pause, gently resting your fingertips on the reflection and squinting. “That’s weird, it’s like, foggy.”

“Probably just dirty,” she shrugs from behind you. You watch her in the mirror and observe the strange obstruction. The mirror is clear in all but one spot, where the world seems to blur. 

With a shiver, you mumble, “Yeah, probably,” before looking away. “Let’s move on.” 

You rush out of the room a little more hurriedly than you’d like to admit, moving into the other bedroom. There’s a bit more to see here. “This must be the kids’ room. It’s funny, I’d been expecting creepy rocking horses or something, but this looks more like a teenager’s room.” You begin roaming around, examining the living space. “There’s a bunk bed, with shelves on either bunk. One of them, the top bunk, has bedding with skulls on it, the other is just red. It matches the walls, those are a cream color.” You crawl up the ladder while you speak and take a seat on the bed. “The top shelf is…” Your eyes grow wide and you feel yourself go pale. “Oh god!” 

Terezi barks at you from below, “What, what is it?” It takes you a few seconds to recover from the shock, and you swallow your disgust before speaking. 

“There’s a dead frog in a jar. Looks like it’s floating in formaldehyde. There’s some animal skulls, too, but… ugh, I just wasn’t expecting the frog.” 

Terezi beams. “Cool! Take it down, we can show Vriska and Kanaya.” 

You cringe, withering at the idea. “I’ll pass. They can come and take it themselves.” You quickly shuttle down from the bunk and open the closet door to a much more pleasant surprise. “Oh! Terezi, there are clothes, nice ones. They look like they might fit us.” 

She joins you at the door and rifles through the fabrics. Eventually, she lands on something leather and pulls it out. She doesn’t need to ask, you’ve already begun to describe it. “It’s a leather jacket, a real one from the looks of it. There are lots of patches and things sewn onto it as well,” you read off a few. “ACAB, Gay Rights, Protect POC, Protect Trans Kids, Anarchy… cool.” 

She passes you the jacket. “You want it?” You’re a bit taken aback by the action, and blink before gingerly taking it. “I’m not super into that style,” she shrugs. 

You slip on the thing, and though a bit oversized, it feels nice. “Normally I wouldn’t wear real leather, but it seems quite old. The cow is already long dead.” She giggles at this, and you spend the next few minutes rifling through the closet for more clothing. You’re thrilled to find that the owner seemed to be goth as well. From her wardrobe, you select a wide-brimmed hat and a plaid skirt customized with chains. You fold them up and put them into your backpack, ignoring the glow of your phone illuminating a new message from Roxy. 

You have no time to dwell on the texts because Terezi is already pulling you back out of the bedroom and into a bathroom. The bathroom sink still has toothbrushes sitting in a jar, the toothpaste left uncapped. You describe all these things to Terezi. “The bathroom is really messy, there’s a gross looking shag rug outside of the bath. I’m assuming it was for wiping your feet. There are also some towels hanging up next to it, they’re equally as dingy as everything else. I wouldn’t suggest using them. Oh, and the lighting in here is a bit worse than everywhere else. The lightbulb is dim and it keeps flickering.”

When you tell her the shower curtain has rubber ducks on it, she lets out a shrieking laugh you can’t help from partaking in. Still giggling, you move to draw back the shower curtain and are cut off. 

In the bath lies stagnant water, clear and almost invisible at first glance. You stay silent, but Terezi does not. “What is it?” 

“Water,” you mumble. “The bath, it’s full.” Slowly, you move your hand into the water, but upon touching it you immediately draw back with a cry. “What on earth?” 

Terezi groans, “How considerate of you, say something vague and ominous around the blind girl.” 

You shake your head and wave her over, “No, no, come here. The water, it’s... warm.” Her eyebrows raise and she obeys, joining beside you and letting her hand pull through the water. 

“Now that _is_ really bizarre. But, wait, if the water is warm, that means-”

You interrupt gravely. “It means someone is in the house.” Your voice seems too loud in the all-too quiet home. Neither of you dares to breathe. 

The lightbulb flickers once again, and you find yourself cursing it. It’s too dark, this is just too weird.Tif there’s someone here you need to leave, right now, but you can’t. 

Then, out of nowhere, a piercing voice from behind you shouts, “Boo!” 

You and Terezi both shriek, jumping out of your skin. Your skeleton is ready to dash away from the house when you hear laughter, familiar and borderline cruel. Kanaya, despite herself, is laughing a little bit as well, hidden under her hand. “Vriska!” You yell at her, still shaking a little bit. But, you can’t stay mad at her, not long. Of all things Vriska’s done, this is far from the worst, and you start to laugh along with her. Terezi jabs her with her cane, but she too is delving into giggles. 

Through laughter, you ask, “How did you guys do that? We must have missed you filling up the tub while we were in the other rooms.”

Vriska, still snickering, asks, “What? What tub? We didn’t…” She trails off, realizing the ominous implication of that. You too stop laughing, brows drawing together with confusion and horror. 

“Vriska, there’s warm water,” Terezi says bluntly. “The tub, it’s been filled recently.”

Vriska laughs nervously, running a hand through her hair. “No, that’s impossible. There’s no water here, the water bills haven’t been paid in years.” 

No one speaks, but Kanaya swiftly moves to test the theory and turn the sink on. Sure enough, it only lets out a quiet hiss of air. “Excuse my language,” She says, “But that’s…” 

“Really fucking weird,” you finish. She nods. 

This time, Vriska is the one to break the silence, rolling her eyes and shrugging. “So? It’s water. It’s not like, blood, or a dead body or something. There’s no one here but us, if someone were here they probably would have murdered us when we were distracted in the basement. It can’t hurt us.” 

She has a point, admittedly, and the others seem to agree. In response to your silent agreement, she grins and holds up a bottle of wine. “In the meantime, if we’re over the whole spooky water thing, who’s thirsty?” 


End file.
